The Ties That Bind
by FreelyBeYourself
Summary: A series of one-shots in which one character is forced to depend on another character in various ways, ranging from help with fending off walkers to a shoulder to cry on. Everyone will be represented at some point.
1. Andrea and Rick

_I just recently started watching the Walking Dead and have now finished all episodes through season three. I liked the characters so much that I had to sit and write about them. Updates will probably be sporadic, but I do intend to continue this for a long time if people like it. This first chapter takes place after the explosion at the CDC. Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead, though I expect you already knew that. _

**Andrea and Rick**

The RV was silent as we left the CDC. Dale was driving, as usual. From my seat behind him I watched the back of his head, wondering what sort of thoughts were going through that superior mind of his. He never tried to meet my gaze, but he must have known that I was staring at him, because he sighed audibly.

"Andrea," he started, and the fact that he had the audacity to speak my name at all was enough to destroy the momentary numbness I had forced myself into after the explosion.

"No, Dale," I forced the words from between my clenched teeth, hands balling into fists. Dale was not going to talk to me. If he tried, I was going to get out of the RV. Dale sighed again from the driver's seat, but the silence resumed. I turned to look out the window.

The CDC had been my chance. It was the perfect opportunity. To die, in a manner of my own choosing, safe from Walkers, away from the ripping, clawing hands of those monsters…

Jacqui had done it. She'd chosen to stay, too, and no one had stopped her.

It wasn't fair. How could it possibly be fair that now I would never be granted the luxury of dying in peace? In comfort? Jacqui had done it, and no one had tried to stop her. Why was it fair that I was still alive? Jacqui had died painlessly. I would never be allowed that.

I wondered what was in store for me. The others knew, of course, that I'd chosen death. What would they think of me now? I'd already seen the look on Lori's face before I got into the RV. The judgment…

Again, I felt a spark of anger. What right did _Lori,_ of all people, have to tell me what I could and couldn't do with my own life? Lori, who had gotten her husband back, whose son was still alive…

But my problem wasn't with Lori, and it really wasn't fair to blame her.

My problem was with Dale. Dale, who had charged me with being the thing that had kept him from making the very same decision after his wife had died. Dale, who didn't spare a thought for Jacqui, but who wouldn't leave me alone to die in peace.

I thought of Jim. He dug all those holes, all those graves. How ironic that in the end it would be him who ended up turning into a Walker. We should've shot him, I mused. Should've ended his misery. Even burning with fever, filled with terror at what he was becoming, he wouldn't allow us to do that. Poor Jim. I wondered where he was now. Had he been put down yet? Had someone mercilessly shoved a blade through his skull? Shot him in the head? Or worse – had he encountered some unsuspecting group of survivors, caught them off guard? Had they been forced to scramble to find a weapon in time?

Had he eaten anyone?

Jim was such a kind person. Wouldn't hurt a fly.

But Jim was gone, turned into nothing more than a bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monster without even an echo of his former self left behind.

Just like Amy.

_Amy…_

Yes, I thought; it would have been much, much better to have died at the CDC. By now I would be safe with Amy. This whole mess would be behind me. I would never again be forced to shoot someone I loved. I would never again have to sleep with one eye open, wondering all the time if that day would be my last; wondering if I would be bitten, gutted.

Damn you, Dale, for forcing me to stay alive.

But I wasn't alive, was I? Not really, anyway.

The RV jerked to a stop, wrenching me from my thoughts. I looked around, wondering what was going on, shocked to see that the sun had moved quite a ways across the sky already. Dale interpreted my surprised gasp as the question that it was, and even though I was far from ready to talk to him, I was grateful for the information that he gave me.

"Had to stop for gas," he told me, and sure enough I could see T-Dog and Shane making their way across to the other side of the highway. They were both carrying red gas cans and pieces of hose that they clearly intended to use to suck the gas out of cars. I watched Rick and Daryl take up defensive positions, watching for Walkers. Dale continued, "We've been driving for about three hours now. Took us a while to get clear of the city. The streets were gridlocked."

How had I missed all of that?

Robotically, I pulled myself up out of my seat and made my way out of the RV.

"Andrea?" Dale's nearly frantic voice questioned from behind me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Just going for a walk, Dale," I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. Dale was going to drive me crazy.

I made my way towards the others, wanting to talk to someone – anyone – but I stopped before I got to the group. No one wanted a nut case like me around. Lori would tell me to keep away from Carl – no doubt she would be worried that I'd give the boy some sort of strange idea – and I knew, without having to experience it, that that would make me angry enough to send me over the edge. Then Shane would butt in, and Carol would stare at me critically, pulling Sophia behind her protectively… No. I wasn't going to allow them to treat me like an outcast.

I turned around abruptly and headed in the opposite direction, not really caring who saw me go. The rule had always been that if someone was going to leave the group for even a short amount of time, it was up to that person to warn whoever was on watch. That way, someone was always there to watch your back.

I never did care much for following the rules.

I'd only been walking for about five minutes when I saw them.

Two Walkers, moving between the parked cars in the distance. They hadn't noticed me yet, and instinct drove me to duck behind a nearby van, silently. I had no way to protect myself; I'd left my gun in the RV, and I hadn't even thought to grab a knife. If the Walkers somehow managed to catch me – though I doubted they were fast enough – I would be defenseless. This was exactly the situation I'd been thinking of when I'd chosen to die at the CDC. I didn't want to die, helpless, like Amy had.

And then it hit me.

I _could _die. Here, now. End it once and for all. It wouldn't be the painless death I was looking for, but I was away from the group and no one knew that I was missing. There would be no one to stop it. I could die right now, and no one would be around to tell me that I didn't have a right to choose peace.

Before I registered what I was doing, my feet were carrying me forward. Still I was silent – a force of habit, I supposed – giving myself time to change my mind. The Walkers never noticed me as I crept stealthily towards them. I had no weapons. If I let them get to me, they would tear me apart. It would be over quick enough. No, not a painless death, but what was a little bit of suffering when I would end up leaving the suffering behind me completely?

The Walkers were still moving away from me, and I began to jog, trying to hurry up and get this over with before I could change my mind. If there was any chance at all that I wasn't willing to go through with this, I didn't want to give myself long enough to find out.

There couldn't have been more than ten feet between me and the Walkers when I felt something slam into me from behind, pushing me roughly to the grass at the side of the road. A weight held there, and I struggled, trying to get up. I should have paid more attention to my attacker, I know, but all I could think about was the fact that the Walkers still hadn't noticed me, and they were leaving, and I was losing my chance to die.

"Let me go," I shrieked, and the Walkers did turn around, but a car alarm went off farther down the road and suddenly they became uninterested in me once again. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I tried to hold them back, but it was useless. "Let me go!"

The weight holding me to the ground shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough for me to try to get up; I made it only about three feet before I found myself pressed to the ground once again.

"No! They're leaving! You don't understand," I sobbed, not able to bring myself to care that I was crying in front of someone else. "I want…"

I reached back and hit the person, hard. I kicked and fought, trying desperately to get up, but there was no way I could move, and I knew I was only going to end up exhausting myself. Still, I tried one more time to move. I needed to get up; I needed to go to the Walkers and let them do to me what they had done to Amy. Like a trapped animal I let out a guttural yell and struggled even harder. Before I knew it my hands had been pinned behind my back and I was out of energy. The fight left me, and I went limp.

"Andrea," Rick said softly, "I'm going to let you go now, but first I need you to promise me that you're not going to try to run again."

Even the camp cowboy didn't trust me, I thought, and that hurt more than I'd ever admit.

"I won't," I promised, because I was too tired to fight anymore. Rick let go of my wrists, letting me get up. I rolled onto my side but otherwise didn't bother to move. I didn't care anymore. Once again I was _this_ close to ending it all, and I had been stopped.

My eyes met Rick's, and I had to blink back tears when I saw the sorrow in his expression.

"I'm sorry," I said, surprising myself when I realized that it was true. Rick watched me silently for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"Andrea…" he blew out his breath in a gust. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking," I winced, "That I would finally have a choice." Rick looked up at the blue sky with a frown.

"I can't imagine the pain you're feeling right now," Rick said after a moment, and I couldn't help but feel that this statement wasn't entirely true; however, I didn't press. "But do you really think Amy would want you to give up like this?"

That caught me off guard. Dale had said something similar, of course, but coming from Dale it had sounded cliché. Not that Dale wasn't sincere; I knew that he was. It was just… with Dale, every choice always had to be morally correct. There was a selfish aspect, too; Dale only wanted so desperately to keep me alive because he had no one else to turn to.

Coming from Rick, however, the words didn't sound selfish at all. Maybe that was because until a few days ago Rick and I had never met. We had formed no friendship as of yet. Rick was a neutral observer, which made his opinion even more valuable, in a way.

"Amy," the name came out twisted, painful, "would want me to be safe," I said, but even as I said it I was aware that it was just an excuse. Rick raised his eyebrows.

"If you had died, and Amy was still alive," he said, and I silently begged him not to go any further, because I knew what he was about to say; I knew how much it would change my perspective, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to see it like that yet. "Would you want her to choose death just because you weren't around anymore?"

I was hit with a shockwave of pain at the thought of my sister sitting in a chair at the CDC, ready to die just because I was no longer alive. In my mind's eye I watched my baby sister run towards not just two Walkers, but a whole herd of them, simply because she didn't want to allow herself to properly deal with her grief. The idea that my sister would choose death because of me… it was unbearable.

"No," I answered Rick's question in a whisper, and that one word managed to contain all of the thoughts that I wasn't able to express out loud. Rick nodded. We sat in silence for a moment.

"Rick, how do we do this?" I asked desperately, gesturing with one hand at the road where all of the cars were parked, some with bodies decaying inside.

"I wish I had an easy answer for you," Rick sighed, looking around. He shook his head before turning back to face me. "None of us knows what's coming next. The truth is, I can't promise you that we'll all be alive tomorrow, or a year from now. But we'll take it a day at a time. When that's too much, we'll break it down hour by hour, and minute by minute if we have to. We'll survive as long as we can, and more than that, we'll _live. _We've all lost people that matter. You, me, Lori, Dale… all of us. This group is my family now. Andrea, we've only known each other a few days, but _you're_ my family now. How do we do this? We pull together and hold each other up, and we overcome."

I wasn't sure if it was Rick's words or my own despair, but tears started leaking from my eyes again. I sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand, wishing that I had a tissue instead.

"It's so hard," I said, and my voice only barely managed not to break. Rick reached out a comforting hand and hesitantly placed it on my shoulder, as if expecting me to brush it off. I didn't.

"Yeah," he agreed with a sigh. "But that's why we've got each other." There was a comfortable silence for a few moments, and I began to wonder about the rest of the group. Surely they knew that we were missing. Rick wouldn't have just walked off without telling someone. Would they be angry with me? Would they want me back? I twitched slightly in response to the rejection that washed through me.

"We've decided to cut the caravan down a bit," Rick told me. It occurred to me that as a cop he must have gotten a great deal of experience in reading body language. "That'll save us the need to find as much gas every time we need to stop. It'll be a bit cramped travelling, but we think it's worth it." I silently agreed, although I worried about what would happen in the case of a Walker attack. With people more tightly grouped together, the chance of losing more people became greater.

Rick sighed again, looking at me with concern.

"Andrea, I know we don't know each other, and I don't expect you to trust me yet," he told me. "Just know that if there's ever anything you want to talk about, you can come to me." I could tell from the look in his eyes that he meant it. I nodded, accepting the truth of the words.

"We should be getting back," I stated, and Rick smiled wryly.

"Yeah, I suppose we should. Shane's probably having a conniption fit." I laughed out loud, surprising myself. Rick offered me his hand and pulled me up from the ground. I blushed when I remembered the fight I'd put up in my attempt to free myself and run towards the Walkers.

"I'm sorry I hit you… and fought you… and tried to kick you," I said awkwardly. Rick smiled and shook his head.

"Don't be. You were upset. I'm sorry I tackled you," he told me. I considered that as we walked.

"I'm not," I told him as we approached the RV. "Thank you for stopping me from doing something stupid, Rick." The only response I got was a friendly smile, but that was enough.

"Andrea!" Dale all but scolded as we neared the rest of the group, now gathered around a map of Georgia. "Where have you been?" The entire group shifted their attention to me, and I tried to think of something to say, but I was spared the effort by Rick.

"Andrea and I just went looking for supplies," the cop said, and I felt a swell of gratitude towards the man. Clearly at least half the group knew the truth, but I only cared about hiding the truth from Dale. Thankfully, no one said anything; and although Dale seemed to sense that we were not being honest, he didn't voice his concerns.

"Did you find anything?" Carol asked, and both Rick and I were smart enough to read between the lines.

"I think I got what I was looking for," I answered, and not even Dale had anything to say about the fact that my hands were empty of supplies. They all understood what I was referring to. Rick and I shared a smile, and then we all went separate directions, attempting to more efficiently pack our things into the smaller caravan.


	2. Carl and Glenn

_Here's chapter two, for anyone who is interested. I have chapters three and four written out; I'll type them up and edit them, and hopefully I'll get them uploaded soon. In the meantime, please feel free to review! Thanks to anyone who has read this story. I still don't own The Walking Dead. _

**Carl and Glenn**

"Come on!" Glenn shouted, grabbing me by the elbow and pulling me roughly in the direction of the farm. The house was not visible through the thick layer of trees. "Come on! We've got to get out of here, now!"

A dozen Walkers had surrounded us, trapping us on all sides as they snarled and growled, closing in steadily as they tried to get at the only food they could find: two stupid humans, lost out in the woods.

If we were with the group, a dozen Walkers would be no problem at all. Dad and Shane could each take out four walkers in half as many seconds, and between Glenn, Dale, and Andrea, the other Walkers would be put down just as quickly. Unfortunately, we weren't with the group.

_It's your fault, you know,_ the thought popped into my mind, and I quickly shut it down. I would deal with the guilt later. If there _was _a later.

"We've got to kill them!" I informed Glenn, wondering when I had started sounding so bossy. I reached under my shirt, feeling for the pocketknife that I kept tucked into the waistband of my pants (well hidden from Mom, and Dad, too, for that matter), but it wasn't there. I must have dropped it.

"No, really?" Glenn snapped sarcastically, reminding me why I didn't like him very much. Everyone else thought he was great, but I really couldn't see what was so special about him. I'd never seen him take an active role in killing Walkers before; I'd never really seen him contribute anything to the group at all, actually.

_That's because you're too busy watching Shane and trying to get into the action yourself, _I admitted, pulling my thoughts back into focus as the Walkers rapidly closed in. Panicking, I turned on the spot, eyes locking on the nearest threat. I desperately wished I had my knife.

"Glenn, what do we do?" I asked, sounding like a terrified little boy… and not wanting to admit to myself that that's exactly what I was.

Glenn was already looking around, trying to find a nonexistent escape. I watched as he tried to formulate a plan. Suddenly his hand was once again at my elbow, tugging me forward. I wanted to resist, but I hadn't been able to come up with any ideas myself, so I prayed to God that Glenn knew what he was doing.

"Run as fast as you can," he told me. I immediately broke into a sprint in the direction he pointed, and beside me he did the same. I'd seen Glenn run before, and although I never cared much for him, I had to admit that he was quite fast. He'd be able to outrun me with absolutely no trouble whatsoever, like a horse can outrun a field mouse. It surprised me, therefore, when Glenn stuck by my side.

"What are you doing?" I asked, already breathless. The Walkers quickly pursued us, and I knew that we were still too deep in the woods to reach the house safely. I thought about calling for help, but even as scared as I was, I knew that any stray Walkers would hear my shout and would come to feed.

Glenn didn't answer. When we were a fair distance away from the zombies – those suckers just didn't know when to give up – Glenn caught me off guard by grabbing me roughly around the waist. Before I could shout out or fight back I was being lifted off the ground. With more strength than I'd ever thought Glenn possessed, he'd hoisted me into a tree. I pulled myself up onto a branch just out of his reach, knowing that if Glenn couldn't reach me, neither could the Walkers.

"Stay there," he told me, and I felt a rush of panic – he wasn't just going to leave me here to die, was he? Clearly Glenn read this thought in my face, because although the Walkers were by now almost within grabbing distance, he hurried to tell me, "I'll be back. Stay here and keep your legs up. Do NOT let them touch you, Carl." With that he began to run.

"Glenn!" I shouted.

"I'll be right back!" he called over his shoulder. "Trust me!"

And then the Walkers were swarming the base of the tree, and their growls were becoming more and more angry when they tried and failed to reach me. I watched Glenn as he disappeared through the trees, wondering if he was really going to leave me to die. He'd told me to trust him, but how could I do that? I didn't know the man; I didn't even like him!

Walkers can't think. I knew that, yet, when one of the Walkers grabbed at a tree branch as if to pull himself up and climb after me, I panicked. With a shout I tried to climb to the next highest branch, but I lost my balance and almost fell. My right leg slipped down and a Walker grabbed my shoe, causing it to fall to the ground. It was ignored.

"Ahh!" I screamed, an involuntary response to the situation. I frantically pulled my leg upwards, trying to regain my balance and perch on the tree branch. I was pretty sure that this was it; I was going to die, one way or the other. The Walkers, being able to smell fresh meat, would not give up, and either they were going to eat me or I was going to fall and break my neck.

_Glenn promised he'd be back,_ I reminded myself, forcing myself to calm down. The Walkers could not climb the tree and they couldn't reach me unless I let myself slip again. I would be fine._Just trust Glenn, _I prompted myself._Just trust Glenn. He said he'd be back, and he will. _

Sure enough, Glenn came charging back into sight at that moment. He was the fastest in the group, but Shane and Dad appeared behind him. All three were wielding weapons, and I could tell from Shane's lack of shoes and Dad's missing gun holster that Glenn had caught them off guard, prompting them to drop everything and run to my rescue.

Glenn reached the base of the tree, axe already in mid-swing. The Walker that had ripped off my sneaker lost its head half a second later.

It didn't take long for the Walkers to be taken care of. The tree trunk, as well as my dropped sneaker, were splattered with blood. Glenn wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand, quickly checking the monsters to ensure that they were all eliminated. Dad pulled himself up into the tree and helped me to the ground.

"Carl, you okay?" he asked, worried, as Shane wiped the blood off my sneaker. "You didn't get bit? Scratched?"

"No," I said, letting Dad check my body for marks.

"Son, what were you doing out here, anyway?" Dad asked, suddenly sounding angry. I frowned, glancing at Glenn, before deciding that honesty was the best way to go.

"I was mad at you and Mom for not letting me carry a gun," I admitted. "I came out here to try and find some Walkers. I wanted to prove to you that I can take care of myself." Here I paused, realizing now what a mess I'd made of things. "Only, instead of finding one Walker, I found a dozen."

Shane's eyes widened.

"You mean to tell me, Carl, that you came out here all by yourself, with no weapons, for the purpose of proving that you're capable of killing Walkers?" he asked. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?"

"No!" I protested. "I had a knife! I always carry one." The words were out of my mouth before I realized exactly what I was admitting to, and the trouble I would now be in. Sighing, I decided that I might as well finish. "I dropped the knife at some point. I was being stupid, Dad. Glenn saw me go into the woods. He dropped everything and followed me. He saw that I was about to provoke the pack of Walkers and tried to stop me. He told me why he had followed me. We were going to leave then, to go back to the farm, but I stepped on a stick. It broke, and the noise was loud enough to catch the attention of the Walkers. Glenn's quick thinking is the only reason that I'm still alive right now."

I swallowed, feeling guilty as I said this, remembering that only moments before I had been thinking of how much I disliked Glenn. Dad looked over at the man who had saved my life.

"Is this true, Glenn?" He asked.

"It's true," Glenn affirmed, looking nervous. Dad and Shane exchanged a look, and then they both clapped Glenn on the shoulder.

"Thank you for saving my son," Dad said, giving Glenn a small smile. Shane handed me my shoe and we began to make our way back to Hershel's farm. I caught Glenn looking at me and wondered what he was thinking. Did he dislike me as much as I disliked him? Neither one of us had ever gone out of the way to get to know the other, and I was sure that this wouldn't change now. Still, I felt just a little bit better about the apocalypse situation, knowing that I had someone like Glenn to watch my back. I vowed that I would return the favor from now on.

**_That's the end of chapter two. _**

**_By the way, anyone who has any suggestions for any possible chapters to this story can feel free to leave it in a review or send me a PM. If you're an anonymous reviewer, please leave some sort of name by which I can identify you to give you proper credit for the chapter idea. _**


	3. Daryl and Sophia

_So sorry for the long delay in updating. I misplaced the few chapters that I'd written, and then finals got in the way. Hopefully, I'll be able to update a bit more frequently now. I feel that after such a long wait I should post a longer chapter, but, this is what I have, so I'll settle for trying to update again in a couple of days. _

**Daryl and Sophia**

Daryl looked around the group, acutely aware of the deep depression that everyone was feeling. The disappearance of Sophia had brought this depression front and center, but Daryl had felt it even before then. It had started after the disastrous trip to the CDC, and Sophia's disappearance had only made it more tangible.

Daryl himself was not immune. He, too, felt as if he were carrying around a black cloud that was pouring rain over his head. His emotions and nerves were frayed. He found himself snapping at everyone, unsure of where the anger was even coming from.

Rick was right about one thing – finding Sophia would be the miracle everyone needed to keep going.

Finding Sophia would be the miracle that _Daryl_ needed.

Daryl watched the group for a long moment before picking up his crossbow. He was going to keep looking for Sophia until he found her, even if everyone else gave up. He never considered that she might already be dead, because that was not an option. Sophia was still alive; she had to be.

Daryl _needed_ her to be.

Because if she wasn't, Daryl knew that it would be one loss too many. The group would break. _He_ would break.

"Please, Sophia, don't let me down," Daryl whispered as he set off into the woods.


End file.
